Because the Moon Shines Brighter Than the Sun
by Vellichora
Summary: The Marauder's years at Hogwarts. They were filled with laughing, crying, joy, and sorrow. Filled with the tales spun of a wolf, a stag, a dog, and a rat. Lets look deeper. Follow this story, which will hopefully go through all the Marauder's years at Hogwarts, and stay as in character and realistic as possible! There will be Wolfstar, but not until later.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Hello. So I'm Vellichora, and I wrote this fic without my other half. My goal is to document the Marauders years at Hogwarts here from my perspective, making it as in character and realistic as I can, it will be angsty at first but I promise later it will be a mix between funny and lighthearted and heavier stuff, and there will be Wolfstar. So don't read this if that offends you in any way. This is the first fanfic I have ever actually posted, and I'm only posting the first chapter but I have more if you guys like it. Thanks!**

 **Disclaimer: Since I currently haven't got my newest shipment for Polyjuice Potion ingredients in, I am not JK Rowling. Sorry to disappoint.**

 **-O-**

Chapter 1:The Early Years from the Perspective of One Remus Lupin

It was cold. It was cold and a chill had settled over the sweet muggle neighborhood, the neighborhood with charming muggle cottages with flowers in the gardens and kissing gates covered in lovely climbing vines. The moon had risen, cutting through the evening, observing the scene with cold eyes made of starlight and moonstone. A small child of six had slipped from his bedroom. Curious gold eyes shone and soft steps fell on the hallway floor. Following the angry whispering. Standing on tiptoes, peaking up through the old, iron key hole, ears perked to hear the elusive sounds.

"Hope, I can't have you going out into the woods anymore. And certainly not taking Remus. It's dangerous! Greyback is out there, and he is out for my name!"

"Lynell, I understand. I won't leave, but I can handle myself."

"NO, Hope! You are a muggle, and I don-"

"REALLY, LYNELL? You KNOW that I hate that! I don't need magic to defend myself, you have NO FAITH!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry. It's just that I'm worried. Please Hope."

The voices continued quieter, but sharp as ever. The little boy, Remus, sniffled. There was a lot of tension within the Lupin house at the time, and to the young child he didn't know what to make of it. With nobody to turn to for comfort, he was lost. As the voices again grew in violence, tears began to threaten to break. He needed out. He ran. He ran out the door, into that cruel, biting wind, into the darkness with only the moon and pools of cold electric light from muggle street lamps. He ran until he collapsed next to the hedge, legs drawn to his chest. He breathed shuddering breaths, tiny arms wrapped around knobby knees. Beautiful golden eyes shimmering with suppressed sadness. Sandy brown hair falling into them. He sat for no more than ten minutes, before he let his arms loosen and his legs splay out. In a sweet, melodic voice he sang softly under his breath, so only the wind could hear.

"Golden tresses frame your face,

And your pillow's soft as silk.

Here the moon is standing by

Like a pool of milk.

Let the dreamboat come along,

And take you for a ride.

You can choose your favorite teddy bear,

And carry him inside.

Sailing through a starry sky,

Holding onto teddy tight.

Know that mummy is still close by

Through the whole dark night.

Have a taste of sparkly star

And drink a sip of moon.

And when you feel that you have gone far

Then sail to your room."

His momma had always sung that song to him, smiling at him as he fell asleep like he was all she could see. It brought comfort, just like the moon it sung about. He looked up to the sky, where it hung as if suspended from a string. To a child, it seems so, so close. Close enough to brush an outstretched hand against if one stood on their tiptoes. Reassured by its gleam, he stood up shakily and brushed off the front of his favorite red shirt. He liked red.

That was when he heard it, rippling through the calm like a stone thrown into a mirror still pool. A soft snarl, a snarl of contempt, like the sweetness of the small boy was poison. Like a predator with it's heart ripped out long ago. Cold, cold like the air, cold like the moon. And then it was there, a wolf, body set like a bear, tall as a horse, shaggy fur black as fear, with gleaming fangs and cruelly intelligent human like eyes. It was slim, ribs poking out, and unkempt, and gray furs speckled it's nose. Feral. Images like a movie, a movie on fast forward, flashed before the cowering child's eyes.

The slam of a door being flung open, the scream of a mother, dirt filled his mouth as he was flung to the side, she was leaping in front of him, eye to eye with the wolf, eyes fear filled, his father was behind her, but too far. Too far to help, too far to do anything but watch, watch as his stars go out, his earth stops spinning, and his moon falls from its strings. And Remus, too young to help, too young to do anything but watch, watch as his lullaby stopped, watch as red earned a new meaning, watch as the moon turned from something loved to something of great fear. But the woman was just a obstacle, now gone, and did not stop the wolf. The thing. The monster. Blood. Red. The moon. The moon did nothing but watch, as if it had planned it all along.

There are no photographs of Remus. The boy, now seven, who should not have understood fear, true fear, fear that no adult could begin to understand. But he did, and he felt it every night, every time the moon, crescent or half, or worst, worst of all full, rose. On full it was the worst, bones tearing, blood flowing, red, the color he hated more than anything. There were no photographs. They were trivial now. The only ones left were pictures of a different family, one with a beautiful, strong willed muggle woman with golden hair and warm nutmeg eyes. One with a tall man with sandy hair and a shy, but happy smile. One with a small boy, wonder in his eyes, bright red shirt on backwards, sandy hair flying and grin splitting his little face. That wasn't Remus. Or maybe it was. It was different then the Remus now, but maybe the Remus now wasn't the true one. He was just a monster after all. The notion reassured itself, as every time, under the kindness of his father, he saw the speckle of fear in his eye. It didn't matter. He wasn't the same as the man in the photographs either. They were only photographs, after all.

Friendless. A new town, a new house, a house with hallways dark and unfamiliar. A new house every few months. Skipping from town to town, as the noises were noticed, and Remus's odd behavior began to be questioned. He didn't ever have friends. The only friends he ever had were in dreams, smiling and happy. His dream friends all looked like young versions of his mother and father, perhaps as he knew no children his age for his dreams to base them off of, and they would play and play and play with him, until come morning. Then they were just dreams again. Forgotten come afternoon. No friends. Ever. Too dangerous. Besides. Who would want to be friends with the strange now eight year old boy with amber eyes and a wolfish stare? Who would want to be friends with the boy holding a book to hide his face? Hide his face so that nobody might be able to see what he was. A monster. Who would want to be friends with a monster?

Nine now came, a birthday lit by the light of the full moon. A birthday spent under heavy binding spells done by his father, a birthday spent with bones breaking to become longer, fur, twisting, matted and sprouting from all over his small frame, skin stretching, blood flowing like water, screams of anguish as his mind was taken over by his other side. The hidden one. The monster. A birthday of terror that would make the horrors of a war veteran seem childish, like being scared of the dark. A birthday without balloons and presents and no joy, and of course no friends. Never friends. Come morning there would be more scars. The wolf was hungry. The wolf wanted flesh and blood. And well, there was no flesh and blood but his own. Scratch, scrape, bite, tear, fur between his teeth and claws, blood on the floor. And come morning there would be his father, sad, weary, terrified, a shadow of himself, a shadow of the man in the photographs. Come morning he would be nine. And he couldn't bring himself to care. Nine was overrated anyway.

He had forgotten the lullaby. He heard it now. Heard it from the shadows outside his father's room, from the hallway so different from the first, the time so long ago when he had listened as well. Soft, sorrow choked singing in his father's deep, quiet voice. The lullaby. He left. He was a coward. He couldn't hear the sound of it being sung, with the echo of his mother's voice seeming to hide behind it. Couldn't remember, even though he was now ten. A sip of moon, a taste of sparkly star. He never looked through the keyhole. If he had, he would have seen his father. His father holding a old photograph. One of _those_ photographs. And singing. Singing the forgotten lullaby for the golden haired muggle maiden smiling up at him.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you to my first reviewer,** **Qoheleth! And to my favorites and followers! I'll keep updating this as fast as possible, so this is the next update. Thanks! ~ Vellichora**

 **-O-**

Chapter 2: The Letter

It was a few months before September. Remus had not been looking forward to the date. He knew that his… unfortunate condition would prevent him from ever setting foot in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But it would be like a slap in the face for the date to come. It was warm out, nothing like the chilly day it was on that fateful night. No, it was warm, and a baby blue sky shone, and clouds seemed to be an extinct species. Remus was reading. The old armchair down in the living room was comfy, and it was his new favorite reading place. They had been in this town for over five months, and he was starting to like the place.

It was then that the owl came. A tall tawny owl with dappled feathers and a letter. Remus looked up in surprise when it slammed its beak against the window, so surprised in fact that he dropped his book. Eyebrows furrowing, the eleven year old sat up and walked to the window where the insistent owl was glaring at him through the glass. He slid the latch to the window down, and pulled it open. The owl immediately dived in and landed on the table, giving him a haughty look. Remus walked hesitantly over to it, and it held out it's leg. He didn't know what to think. He and his father had no acquaintances and no one to bother sending a letter. It screeched, startling him out of his thoughts.

"Fine, fine…" He mumbled under his breath before using long, slim fingers to gently unwrap the letter. The owl glared at him and flew back out the window. Remus looked down at the letter in his hands, and his heart leapt. Thick, heavy parchment, and the red of the Hogwart's insignia stamped down to hold the flap shut. Heart pounding, he turned it over.

Mr. R Lupin

Armchair in the Sitting Room

Wishing Bridge Road

London

Trembling hands pulled open the letter, making sure not to tear the paper, and slid out the letter.

Dear Mr. Lupin,

You have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Given your condition, I have decided to write you your letter myself. Hogwarts is a school whose doors should always be open, for all students, muggleborn or pureblood, rich or poor, or in your case, with lycanthropy or without. You deserve education just as much as any other child, and we can make preparations for you to make sure that you and all the other staff and students are safe if you accept. I will stop by for a visit on the upcoming Sunday to talk to you about what we could figure out for your time at Hogwarts.

Signed,

Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

 _He_ had been accepted to Hogwarts. He had been _accepted_ to Hogwarts. He had been accepted to _Hogwarts_. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His father, he had to tell his father. Remus sprinted out of the sitting room and thundered up the stairs. The staircase seemed to be longer than usual, stretching out, climbing ever higher. Then he was in the hallway. He ran down it, skidding to a halt in front of his father's room, and knocked. The man opened the door after a moment. And did a double take. In front of his bedroom door stood Remus. The Remus from the photographs. 11 year old Remus, hair wild, grin splitting his face. The only difference was the sorrow hidden behind the wonder in his eyes, but it was forgotten. Remus hadn't smiled since… Since that night.

"Remus?" He asked, surprised.

"I got a letter!" The excited boy laughed. It was a half in wonder, half disbelieving laugh. And was beautiful, even after being absent so long. "I got a letter from Hogwarts!" He didn't seem to be able to say anything else, but shoved the said slip of paper into his father's hands. A series of emotions flashed across the man's face as he read. Nostalgia, sadness, perhaps… Perhaps even a flicker of pride. But surprise covered all of these masterfully.

"You got a letter." He echoed, voice slightly choked up.

"I want to go." Remus said quietly, earlier excitement covered up under a hesitant smile. Like he'd forgotten how to smile at his father.

"I… Yes. You can go to Hogwarts, if Dumbledore's preparations are satisfactory." Lyall responded, unsure how to act.

"Thanks… Dad." The word felt foreign coming out of his mouth. Dad. He hadn't called the man that in years. They barely ever even spoke.

"I'm proud." Lyall said, quietly and uncertain, like he didn't know if he had the right to say that. He probably didn't, but to Remus it meant the world. He stepped forward and let his arms raise, before a flash of fear went through his eyes and he thought the better of it, arms falling and stepping back. Remus gave him a understanding, sad smile. He was still scared of him. He was proud, he was his father, but he could never be Dad. No dad is scared of his own son. Maybe if things had gone differently… If Hope was still there… But he would never be Dad the way things are now.

"I understand." Remus said quietly. And he did. He was after all, not meant to be loved. You don't love zombies, you don't love vampires, you don't love the things that hide under beds. You don't love monsters, wolves that tear down golden haired muggle mothers, wolves with eyes like the moon. You don't love monsters, so you don't love Remus. It was something he grew to accept. Love was something he hadn't felt since the age of six. He looked longingly for what could have been at his father, before turning and walking down the hallway to his own room.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey guys, just letting you know that this account is no longer shared and Im keeping it up under a new name, sorry for any confusion caused. Thanks!**

 **-O-**

Chapter 3: Dumbledore's Visit

It felt like a year and a hour had passed at the same time before the much anticipated day of Sunday had arrived. Remus, to his own embarrassment, couldn't help but sit at the bottom of the staircase to the upstairs, which was located only a few meters from the door. He had his father's old copy of _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, By Quentin Trimble_ and had read the same paragraph at least six times before he caught himself and scolded himself. It was odd, his fascination with Defence Against the Dark Arts. The truth was, there were a few reasons why he was so oddly enamoured with it. Maybe if he had known this or that, he could have changed the outcome of that night (he couldn't help thinking this subconsciously, even though he was only six), or maybe it was the profound fear of who he was that led him to search for ways to fight against werewolves or other dark creatures. But the books all had the same story. Werewolves are vicious creatures. Their human state is just a mask: They are always cruel, evil monsters. They are practically animals, full moon or not. Books born of prejudice. But after that night, Remus believed them.

Every noise that came from the bustle of muggle life outside the doorway made the anxious boy jump. Each could be Professor Dumbledore. A man who might as well have been a mythical creature himself. A man who the world looked up to. A man who was never really seen as a man: seen as an answer to all problems, a thing that never would be as fallible as a human being. A man who offered a werewolf a place at a school. After a while, it finally came: A knock. You can tell a surprising amount about people from their knock. A quick rap: A businessman, in a rush to get from one place to another. A smooth, drawn out knock: A high up person, like someone from an old pureblood family. A light tap: A nervous friend coming to stay over at their friend's house for the first time. Dumbledore's knock was happy and tappy: a bright sound that filled a house like a knife through the weary sadness that had always followed the Lupins'. A sound of an old friend. A trustworthy, happy, and slightly eccentric knock, a trustworthy, happy, and slightly eccentric man.

Remus cautiously walked to the door and opened it. The man standing there was just like his knock. He wore bright robes, all sorts of colors. No red. His piercing blue eyes were twinkling like they were on steroids, and they were friendly and wise. His beard was so long that it could be tucked into his belt, and his face as was and kindly as Santa Claus's. Remus found the sides of his mouth lifting, stretching unfamiliar muscles.

"Hello, sir." He said quietly, politely, and shy. The old Professor beamed at him. Remus stepped off to the side to allow him inside.

"Father! Headmaster Dumbledore is here!" Remus called.

Lynell Lupin came down to the top of the stairs. He looked at Dumbledore with a fond, but weary smile. Dumbledore gave back a cheerful one. The first cheerful smile that had been smiled in this house since its last owners left it.

"Lynell, my dear boy! One of my favorites from when I taught Transfiguration! Well, let's get started shall we? Me and the rest of the willing staff have made the perfect plan for you Remus." Dumbledore stated, like this was the most exciting news he had delivered since the day he was born. "Oh, and Remus my dear boy, would you like a chocolate frog?" The man produced one seemingly from thin air. Remus blushed and nodded thank you, before taking the sweet reverently. He had not had a single sweet since… Before that night. He unwrapped it with shaking hands, before gently taking a bite out of the squirming chocolate. He let his eyes close in bliss. Chocolate. And a small spark was lit at the bottom of his stomach. A warm spark that he now wondered how he ever lived without it.

"Alright. If we could find a nice spot to sit down, I've got all the plans right here." Dumbledore said happily, holding up a stack of parchment. The request to find a spot to sit down, if said by anyone else, would have sounded quite rude. But out of Dumbledore's mouth, it was the opposite. The eldest Lupin led them to the sitting room, before gesturing to a group of chairs. They were slightly frayed, as they didn't own much money. Dumbledore didn't mind.

"Ah, time to get down to business," he said, holding out the parchments. "I think that these will be satisfactory." His eyes were twinkling like mad.

The Whomping Willow. The Shrieking Shack. Madam Pomfrey. Safe. Privacy spells. Make up work times. Dumbledore spun a web of security and the first love and caring that Remus had ever felt around him. He was choked up, this man, this great man, he cared. He was probably the first one to do so in a long time. So long that Remus had forgotten what it felt like.

"Sir… I don't know what to say… Thank you! Thank you so so so much!" Remus said, voice almost breaking. Then, before he could stop himself, he ran forward and gave the man a hug. Dumbledore wrapped his arms gently around the grateful boy, and Remus had the first hug he had ever had, the first hug since his mother had tucked him in the night before everything went pear shaped. It felt nice, someone was there for him, somebody was holding him, somebody who didn't care he was a monster. He loved it.

Three things resulted from Dumbledore's visit that day. The first was a minor (who are you kidding, Remus?) obsession with chocolate. The second was a desire for the best thing to ever be invented: hugs, the way you can tell somebody is there and really does care. The third: A sure as the moonrise place on the Hogwarts Express come September 1st.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hello guys! I'd like to thank steffes0 for his or her amazing support and praise of this fanfic! Here is the next chapter. I had some problems writing Lynell in this chapter, so I hope that he came out alright! Thanks for reading!**

 **-O-**

Chapter 4: Going to Hogwarts

They didn't have enough money to buy new school supplies, so it was a Remus holding Lynell's old trunk and faded second hand robes that arrived at King's Cross Station. His father was awkwardly leading him through the crowd. They didn't speak to each other. Not until they were through the barrier. Then Lynell fidgeted nervously and opened his mouth to speak.

"Remus. I know that we will never have the relationship that a father and son should have. Too much has happened, and the gap between us is too big. But I wanted you to know how proud I am seeing you ready to get on the train, and I wanted to give you this." He self consciously said, before thrusting out a small box. "Here. I hope this helps you through all your hard times at school. I hope that you can use this when you feel happy, when you feel angry, when you feel like the whole world is against you. I hope you can use this and feel better no matter what." He rambled, then he disappeared, back through the brick, before Remus could respond.

Remus looked down at the package in his hand, and gave a watery little smile at it. Then, he picked up his old hand me down trunk, and began to weave through the bright crowd of excited children, weeping parents ("They grow up so fast!"), and loudly protesting owls and cats. He finally pushed through to the large red train, and climbed up the steps. Then he hesitated. There were kids on this train. His age. Children. The ones that he had always wanted there, always wanted to talk to, but never had unless he was being bullied by them. But how should he even act around kids his age? He frowned. Well, he couldn't make friends anyway. One slip up… No. Remus John Lupin would not make friends. Nobody would want to be his friend anyway. All they had to do is look in his eyes, and they would be unnerved enough to leave him alone. Goldenish amber eyes, the eyes of a wolf, the eyes of a predator, the eyes of a creature that kills mothers and bites small children with smiles that split their faces.

So with this in mind, Remus found his way to an empty compartment and sat down. He wished he had an owl or something to keep him company, but animals didn't like him. Nor did they have the money to purchase one. His eyes flickered to the small package was clutched in his hand. A present. From his father. He carefully eased the lid of, and there it was. A muggle device. He had seen kids with these around but… He eased it out of the box. A note was shoved underneath, crinkled slightly as it was to big to have fit in the box.

'I've always been skilled at charms, and I managed to figure out a couple enchantments to allow this to work in Hogwarts with through its magic also… well… Not sure if this is legal. Well, yes I'm sure, and it certainly isn't. I'm not the best role model. It's a bit too late for that anyway. But I found a spell to purchase all the songs on it for free. Do not, I repeat, do not report me to the Ministry. I'm rubbish at this. Have a good time at school, and you can use the school owls to owl me about what house you get into.

~Lynell Lupin'

Remus smiled sadly at the formal address, then he gazed down at the music device in his hand. He curiously fiddled with it for a few moments, before gingerly putting it into his baggage. Then he pulled out his Defense book and flipped through it, nimbly flicking through the dry pages. It was a little while, just before the train left, before his plans went downhill when an 11 year old boy opened the door to his compartment. The boy was tall, and he had smooth black hair that fell to below his ears; Slightly longer than most boys had theirs. He had cold but bright eyes like liquid silver. His face was aristocratic and elegant.

"Sirius Black," he said, haughtily. "May I sit here?" Remus wanted nothing more than to say no, but he found the next words pouring out of his mouth before he could stop them. He knew of the Blacks: Everybody knew of the Blacks. They were a old pureblood manic family, very powerful, very dark. Not the best people to sit with. At least they weren't monsters.

"If you'd like." Then he winced. Was that a stupid thing to say? But the boy didn't respond to him, he just sat down with a firm and straight posture diagonal to him, seeming to ignore him now. Was that normal? Or was he just weirded out by Remus? He looked back down at his defense book. It wasn't until the train started that Black said anything.

"What house do you expect to be in?" Remus furrowed his brow. He hadn't thought about it.

"I'm not certain. How about you?" Sirius chewed the inside of his mouth, and his perfect posture slumped almost unnoticeably.

"Slytherin." He said. But it didn't sound like he meant it. It sounded like something that was recited in front of the mirror uncountable times.

It was quiet in the compartment for a long while after. Until _they_ came. A group of students decked in Slytherin robes, followed by a few first years, opened the compartment door. This time, Sirius visibly shrunk. The lead one, a sixth year with long blonde hair sneered at Remus. His eyes flicked over his secondhand robes, pale, scarred skin, thin body, messy sandy hair, and finally his wolfish eyes and thin face. The sneer grows more disgusted. Remus joins Sirius in his shrinking.

"Sirius. We were wondering were you were. And here you were all this time… Spending your time with this trash. Not befitting for the heir to the Black family." The boy snarled. It screwed up his girlish face grotesquely.

"Lucius, I…" Sirius started, looking scared.

"Lucius I nothing." The boy, now identified as Lucius, finished, smirk on his face. "Now come back to our compartment. _Now_."

The Slytherin group left and Sirius slowly shuffled after them, looking miserable. He looked back, and silver eyes met amber. Those eyes were hesitant. Then he mouthed back one word to Remus. _Gryffindor._ Then he was gone. Gryffindor. That group of Slytherins… His relations… Remus felt his stomach sink. Sirius Black was just as lost as he was. Gryffindor. Merlin. His family would eat him alive if he was in Gryffindor.

There was no disruptions for the longest time after. Remus continued to read, but he couldn't get those piercing silver eyes out of his head. _Gryffindor_. After a while, as it started to get dark, he sighed. The trolley had come by, laden with chocolate, chocolate that make his mouth water, taste buds quiver, and his heart beat faster. But he had not even a knut on him, so he had watched the cart side off down to the rest of the train. Since he already had his robes on, he didn't need to worry about changing. He looked out the window. The moon had risen. It gazed down at him, cruel and distant. Half full. He shivered under it's gaze. The lights had flickered on in the train, so he used them to continue reading. Then, at long last, he could see it, out the window, grand, beautiful, majestic. He was aware of his mouth opening like a gaping fish. It was… Undefinable. You could never put it in words. His heart seemed to finally accept all that had happened since the owl knocked on his window as more than a surreal dream, and it sank in. Hogwarts. He was going to Hogwarts.

He continued to stare at the beautiful castle until the train slowed to a stop at the station. Then there was a bustle of students, years first to seventh, clamoring to get off. Remus picked up his things and tried to weave through the crowd and not be noticed. When the students finally had all gotten off the train, he saw a huge, hulking figure holding a lantern.

"Firs' years! Firs' years this way!" The figure called out. It was a man. He was vast, with an impressive beard covering most of his face, and little dark eyes that twinkled happily. He towered over the little tiny first years that were beginning to gather nervously at his feat, egged on by the reassuring beam on his face. Remus went to stand next to the giant man, edging away from the first years he had seen hanging around the cruel older Slytherins on the train. Sirius was standing with them, but he was edging away too, but in a way that nobody but the most observant could be able to catch. For one moment, amber met silver again, this time with nothing held back. Both eyes full of pain, sorrow, and loss, full of things that nobody should ever have to bear, but they have all alone. Then the moment was gone, along with those eyes, but the afterimage was ingrained in Remus's mind. He shook his head to clear it.

Hagrid had said something, and the first years were starting to get into the boats. Remus scrambled to follow, choosing the first empty boat he saw. A few seconds later he was joined by a boy with atrociously messy black hair, hazel eyes sparkling under round glasses, and a grin that made Remus shuffle away from him in fear of having something blow up in his face. Then came a mousy looking boy with a roundish face, a shy smile, blond hair, and gentle light blue eyes. The boy with glasses gave him a cocky grin and leaned back casually against the boat side. The blond boy gave him a hesitant nod. Remus fidgeted uncomfortably, worried about being near other kids his age. He didn't like how their eyes would look at his then flicker away nervously. He bundled tighter in his robes. But then he looked at the castle, which loomed in front of the boats, windows twinkling with warm light, and it didn't seem to matter anymore.

Hogwarts. He was almost there. What waited behind those ancient stone walls?


End file.
